so I cheered up, and sure enough, things got worse."
-- my mom
Mom clearly has a dark sense of humor.
Things at work just refuse to become better. I am working very hard not to give in to the temptation to storm the halls, shouting, "Behave like grown-ups! This is not kindergarten!" But as that would be a bit childish in itself, I'm guessing that it wouldn't make the situation any better. Alas. Because I'm thinking that it would certainly feel good in the doing.
The effort to control my baser impulses has been heroic, and has had several implications for my evening hours. The first is that I find myself avoiding my computer like the plague, as I never know what email bombs may lurk in its depths. The second is that by the time I get home, get dinner going, get the kids through homework and into bed, I'm done for. I've been crawling into bed soon after the girls do. This is not conducive to knitting, as I can't seem to lie down, read, and knit at the same time. It's also not conducive to taking pictures of anything, so I still have no photos of the silk that I spun over the weekend. Soon, soon...
OK, I decided that was a cop-out, and took a quick picture using the computer, just so you can see. Here:
This is the silk that Wanda sent me, along with a lovely spinning video that I haven't had a chance to post about (one more thing to get to). I'm still planning to knit myself an i-cord bracelet out of it, and as soon as Jan suggested finding a bead for a special closure, I knew what I had to use. These are two lovely greenstone markers/pendants that Stella sent me in the fall that have been waiting for the exact perfect use, and I've found it. The colors don't show as well here as they should, but the green picks up some of the darker greens in the silk and is a lovely complement. Now I just need to figure out in my head how to make a loop on one end to go around the beads at the other. Contemplating this has gotten me through several interminable meetings with cranky people lately.
Meanwhile, in other news, Older Daughter grows apace. Her school shoes became too small, apparently overnight, and in a fit of desperation I dove into my closet and appeared with a pair of shoes that I bought myself some time ago that just don't make my feet happy. They fit her. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about the fact that my not-quite-ten-year-old can wear my shoes. In looking for the silver lining, it occurs to me that this means that she will not be able to borrow my shoes when she's in high school. This is good, yes?